


Heartsease (Johnny Jump Up)

by cinnamonFreak



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anxiety, Casual drinking, Coffeeshop AU, Cute, M/M, Mind Reading, Overthinking, References to Depression, Rocky Relationship To Start, Soulmate AU, casual smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonFreak/pseuds/cinnamonFreak
Summary: Soulmate AU, featuring a No Thoughts Head Empty John and an Overthinking Dirk.The catch? They can hear each others' thoughts.Dirk is an engineering student visiting his brother, with a knack for overworking himself and a brain that's cluttered to hell and back.John is a comedian/barista in California, just floating through life. Whatever happens happens, right?
Relationships: Dirk's Bro | Alpha Dave Strider/Roxy's Mom | Alpha Rose Lalonde, John Egbert/Dirk Strider
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

Quad-shot, oat milk.

Medium quad-shot with oat milk, plain.

Medium quad-shot latte with oat milk, plain. Medium quad-shot latte with oat milk, plain. Medium quad-shot latte with oat milk, plain.

You take a breath and get out your card. The woman at the register smiles and asks for your order. 

"Latte... uh, plain, with oat milk. Four shots." 

Fuck.

She smiles and scribbles your order on a cup, and you wait for her to prompt you to pay. 

"Will that be all?" She chirps. You did not rehearse for more lines. You shake your head. "Alright, it'll be $5.62! You can go on and insert your card." 

She gestured to the little card reader, and you fumble through the payment process as quickly as you're able. You step out of the way and sit at the bar by the pick-up area. 

That was terrible. But it's over. Hopefully she won't remember the interaction ever again.

When your order is called, you stand to take it. Your hand bumps the barista's and you're quick to move away, turning back to the bar and setting your cup down. 

jesus, someone looks tired.

Wow, dick.

You give the barista a weird look over your shoulder and he returns it. You grab your laptop anyways and get started on your homework. 

For every epsilon there is a delta... g(x) is continuous if and only if- Jesus, I can't believe D fucking called me out here again. Online school doesn't fucking mean no school. There exists an initial delta greater than zero such that g(x) is defined - 

ohhh.

\- for all x that exists from ‘a’ minus the initial delta to ‘a’ plus the initial delta, and...

You keep working on your assignment, ignoring the barista. This teacher’s style is... very theoretical. He heavily appreciates epsilon delta proofs, and you have to admit you can see the appeal now that you have your head wrapped around them, but his assignments are time-consuming and difficult. You get yourself immersed completely in the zone, breathing in math and working persistently. It's five problems that will weigh you down until you get the assignment done, and the sooner you get it out of the way the sooner you can focus on your more entertaining classes. 

The music of the shop plays, but it's far in the background. There's a piano overlay that's unique, and sometimes even decent, but it doesn't hold your attention. You block everything that isn’t your assignment out completely, working through each question with care. Your teacher allows you to turn in your assignment ahead of time and get feedback before the official turn-in, and you intend on taking full advantage of that. 

... So, the absolute value of x minus ‘a’ is less than-

You pick up your phone the moment you notice it buzzing. You refrain from sighing as you answer. 

"What's up?"

"Bro, do you even love me? Why visit your poor dear brother if you're just going to ignore him the whole time, bro.”

Oh, good. The baby's finally fucking awake.

"I'm at a coffee shop so I could do some homework in peace, bro. Replace the skin off your nose, man. There was still someone passed out in your green guest room when I left, anyways." You hear your brother make a confused noise and shuffle around. 

There's a pause, and then he speaks again. "Oh. … Can you pick me up a white chocolate americano when you come back? But take your time, man.”

Fuck, why? Don't you have all the shit? You're going to make me go through that bullshit again? Fuck you.

"Sure."

"Sick. Legit, take your time, bro. Come back wheneves." You hear a low giggle in the background and decide to hang up. 

Gross.

You try to focus back in on your assignment now. It's a lot more difficult with your brother's order weighing on you. 

White chocolate americano. X minus ‘a’ is less than two epsilon over x plus ‘a.’ Probably large. No room for cream. This is the delta of epsilon, then. Is the same chick working? I'll probably grab it now and split. Would it be weird to get two drinks? Mine's basically KO'd and that guy did call me fucking tired. Rough to be straight up called out like that. Okay. White chocolate americano, large. Easy. You can do this.

You pack up your laptop and pocket your phone. The wave of customers has significantly calmed down, at least. You take a breath. 

hey, pst.

come to the pick-up counter.

You furrow your eyebrows and look over. The weird barista was looking at you. He grins, raising an eyebrow and setting two drinks down on the counter. 

white chocolate americano, large. four-shot latte with oat milk, medium.

He tracks you with his eyes intently. You stare dumbly back at him. You still have math on your mind. The action doesn't fully register yet. Your brain doesn't know what to do with the lack of lip movement. 

Fuck, how do I pay?

The barista gives a charismatic laugh, shaking his head and making his way to the register. 

wow! for a smart guy i got a total dumb ass!

He whispers something to his coworker and gestures Dirk closer. Dirk's brain finally clicks, but for the most part he just goes bright red and feels dumb. 

Oh, fuck. Fuck, okay. Okay, this guy is the one. Off to a great start. This is the dude. The man. Fuck, I am already blowing this. Dicks, he can hear me, too, huh? Just. Just hand over the card and buy the coffee and it'll be fine. Or do I talk to him? How does one go about this? Am I supposed to say something?

"Hey! I'm John, nice to meet you," he says easily. He rings up the order and reaches out. 

your card, you dork.

You can feel how overwhelmingly red your face is. You get out your card and hand it over, your hand a little shaky. You still don't know what to do, say, or even think. You weren't even prepared for a question on your order, let alone _this._

pretty adorable for an ugly chick.

_Excuse me._

You reel, gaping and looking down at yourself. The barista gasps aloud, covering his mouth with something akin to a giggle. "Sorry! I did not mean to think that like that," he says, running your card quickly. 

You give him a sharp look. 

Do I look like a chick? Do people think I'm a fucking girl? My hair isn't even that long! And my shoulders are WAY to broad for that shit. What the fuck. Is this guy joking?

well i AM a comedian.

You get the vague impression of shock, but he doesn’t think anything else aloud. He takes your receipt and writes his number on the back of it, handing it and your card back to you. You take it, expressionless and red. You feel salty and offended. 

... my bad. did not think i was gay.

You shoot the guy another look, put your card away, and pocket your wallet with the receipt tucked into it. He grins sheepishly at you, and you find yourself having troubles staying mad already. 

Fuckin' comedian ass fuckin' mister misgenderin' ass fuckin' gayass fuckin'-

You hear the guy laugh, and you allow a fraction of a smirk in return despite yourself. You take your two coffees and turn to leave. You’re still a little offended, but part of you is glowing from the turn of events. If you were not already packed and going through a coffee delivery for your histrionic brother, you would probably stay. He’s working, though, so that’s as good a reason as any to dip, anyways. 

guess i am an ass man now. damn.

You very narrowly avoid tripping over yourself on your way out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet! They hang! Good times

**Be John.**

You are not a math guy. You do not love math. Math is kind of hard, even! 

But, holy nuts does your soulmate think about math a lot. 

You don’t focus on it during your shift. You watch him as he exits, sad to see him leave but lucky to see him go, and you play piano songs in your head while the rambling continues in the background. 

You catch bits as they pass and find yourself smiling. 

Please have clothes on please have clothes on please have clothes on pl-

God fucking damnit I hate it here. I wanna go home.

You laugh at that as you accidentally turn the wrong knob and totally scorch your hand. You don't even react to it, finishing up the drink you're making and sending it out. You don't think anything that could be considered a response, but your brain supplies ambient piano music to try to cover the constant stream of thoughts being funneled in.

As closing time comes, you find the brain space to register more of what he's thinking. It is definitely weird to have him in your head! Almost overwhelming, but also easy to tune out. 

In the hexadecimal system, BCBC repeating is one eighty eight multiplied by one over sixteen to the nth, and this converges because r is less than one...

Hello, ma’am. Are you hungry?

Let's get you some food, homie.

You smile to yourself, pausing in front of the espresso machine and biting your lip. 

oh! do you have a dog?

You hear a pause and you look up to listen. 

Fuck. Oh yeah. No, a cat, actually. My friend's cat had kittens a while back and I got pinned with one. Plus they totally thought I should take care of something. Which, valid, I guess it matters more to me that I feed her consistently, so it's a good motivator to get to the store.

You frown a little at that as you glance at the clock. 

... oh. well, i am sure she is cute! how is she? also, is there any chance you want a coffee? my shift ends pretty soon!

You hear something staticky, and the back of your neck prickles with what feels like second-hand guilt. It is so funny and weird. You hope he can feel the good vibes you send in return!

Sorry. Sure. If you want. My bad. She's a chill cat. Sorry. Her name's Princess Supercilious of Texas, prince for short, and she's orange and she's a bitch. I would die for her.

You feel a glow in your chest at the explanation. You make a drink for him with a grin on your face, and then get started on cleaning up. 

nice name! she sounds like a cool customer.

He's so sweet and wholesome, fuck. He's way too good for me, I am going to ruin this.

That doesn't sit well with you. You frown as you gather up the trash bags. Your coworker is closing up the register, so at least you will be able to get out of there pretty soon. 

i am pretty cool, yeah! but if you are worthy of me you must be pretty rad, too.

There's a buzz, and you think his mind has blanked out a little. It feels warm, and you can't pretend to mind the seconds of silence. Math kind of makes your head hurt, and you are not used to sharing the space. 

What, don't just spread the food all over! You're supposed to eat it. Put it in your mouth and- fuck, not on the-

Dick.

You giggle at that, washing your hands. You say goodbye to your coworkers and clock out, coffee in one hand and keys in the other. 

did someone make a mess?

She likes to bring individual pieces of food over to where I work and eat them there. So, yes. Someone made a mess and is a dick.

You make your way to your car and lean against it. Your mind is churning out a generic song but you can't find a suitable baseline for the melody. 

where do i go to meet you?

He thinks like he's writing poetry.

You laugh again because your soulmate is sweet and forgets you can hear him. It feels tender and warm, like you caught him staring fondly. 

I could invite him here but then I would need to tell D. Plus it's kinda trashed around the edges. I could meet him somewhere...

i do not mind any mess, but i am down with whatever. who's d? you are visiting him, right?

Oh, damn. Perceptive. Uh, D's my brother. And guardian and stuff, but I usually live in Texas. And I mostly grew up there. So I'm just visiting. I go to school online. For now, I mean. Next year I'll have in-person labs.

You get into your car, leaning your seat back to chill a little while you guys figure things out. You set the coffee in the cupholder and guiltily pack your pipe with tobacco, rolling your window down and puffing on it absently. You wave at your coworker when she passes to her own car. 

that is rad! i have never been to texas. sucks that you usually live so far away, though.

do you want to come over to mine instead, then? i do not want to make you uncomfortable.

talk about a mess, though...

I am always uncomfortable.

Just give me a moment to fill my brother in after he showers and the door will be open. Sound solid?

as a rock!

You smile and absolutely ruin the smoke ring you were working on puffing. You can feel the murmur of apologies and worries coming, so you decide to nip the line of thought in the bud. 

so, tell me about yourself! what kinds of things do you like?

Pilot G-2 gel pens and dot-grid paper.

Your soulmate thinks this with dead seriousness. You sit there in shock for a half a moment before you find yourself laughing at the statement. You cough and sputter on smoke and giggles, holding your fist to your forehead as you try to recover. 

oh my jeez louise this guy is funnier than i am!

i love it! tell me more.

what SPECIFICALLY about pilot g-2 gel pens and dot grid paper brings you joy that those were the first things you thought of.

They glide like sin itself, and the dot grid makes for the structure of graph paper without the messiness of gridlines.

You love this guy! Holy shit! You are laughing hard, and you accidentally bonk your knee on the horn of your car in your little fit. They "glide like sin." You can't really argue with that! 

sick, dude! i love it! do you use them for your math things and stuff, then?

I use them for everything. They're especially useful for my circuits classes, but they bring ease to 3-dimensional graphing, too.

studying hard, i see, then! that is quite the class load, it sounds like.

It's honestly pretty fun. I like it. 

Fuckfuckfuck there he is I just got to tell him now.

You stay quiet when you hear the shift, patiently puffing your pipe. Dirk's line of thought nearly has you stressed out!

It's not that hard. Just say the words. Just say that you met him and he's coming over and it's not that big a deal and-

Fuck. No. Just-

Okay. No, not the hair, not the-

You can feel an inkling of relief signifying that he's shared the info. You listen in on the babble of consciousness until you figure he must be finished talking to his brother. It's cute the way he worries and frets, and you try to picture what he looks like while he does but you only saw him for what felt like a flash, so it's hard to picture. 

Once he's settled down, you send another thought his way. 

how did it go? is there any direction i should be heading?

He gives you the address when prompted and you punch it into the GPS. He's now buzzing nervously about your arrival, worrying about the mess and you meeting his brother. You have trouble keeping up with the stream, and you feel bad when you push his thought line to the back of your mind to focus on driving. 

But jeez does he think a lot!! Just constantly! Good thing his brain does not need to stop for air, or else he would be DEAD! 

Which is fine!!!! He has a right to think however much he wants! But it kind of sucks to know that you have him this stressed out. 

You pop your pipe in the center console when you come up to a big gate. You're nervous when you drive up, rolling your window down. The guard approaches and you are kind of terrified. He levels a look at you. 

holy shit, he is going to eat me.

"Name?"

"John Egbert," you eep out. He pauses and goes to his little podium for a moment. 

Fuck, what's your name? I need to tell the guy. Are you there?

Oh man, you are sweating. 

it is john egbert. yes, i am here! i am at the gate.

Okay, sick. He should let you in any second now.

You sit in your car and wait. The guard lets you pass eventually, and you drive in. You park where the GPS tells you, taking another breath. 

Fuck, I think that's him, fuck. Okay. Fuck. Okay.

Fuck.

all is good, you know. you do not have anything to worry about! this is just a casual hang, right?

You can see him move in a window at the top floor. You feel warm and light. You give yourself a brief spritz of a fabric spray that's supposed to smell like canned spring air, and then you step out of your car and go to the building. 

You go to the elevator and press the button, smiling to yourself a little. 

He's here he's here he's here _he's here he's here he's here he's-_

You blink when you see your soulmate on the other side of the elevator door. You send him a smooth smile and his mind goes blank. Talk about a relief. 

"Sup," he says smoothly. As if you weren't listening in on his bouncing, endless internal cacophony. 

You laugh and nudge him on your way in. "You overthinking dork," you tease. He lets out a surprised chuckle and shoves you back. You snort and puuuuuush at his shoulder while he tries to nudge you back into place. 

He's cute he's cool he's funny he's calm he's too good for me fuck don't ruin this fuck don't fuck it up don't-

"Hey."

Fuck, shut up, shut up he can hear you, fuck-

"Heeeey."

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfu-

"Heeeeeeeeeeey." You manage to trap him against the wall of the elevator, taking his face in both hands and looking at him through his ridiculous shades. This close you can almost see his eyes. 

"Shhhhhhhh." 

"But I-"

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh!" You press your nose against his annoyingly and squish his face. His pale skin goes bright red. 

You guys stare at each other in silence for a beat. He blinks. 

His eyes are so pretty, I can't believe he's the one, he's so nice, he's way too good for-

You poke at his stomach a dozen times in a second and he lets out an eep. You raise your eyebrows and grin mischievously. 

Oh no.

Oh, yes. You attack without a second more of notice, beginning to tickle him mercilessly. He scrambles along the wall to try to get away, tumbling smoothly out of the elevator doors as soon as they open. You would feel like you were overstepping personal boundaries if it didn’t silence the slew of self-hatred he is bringing to the table. 

You chase after him with a laugh, stalking him down the hall. You manage to snag him as he comes up to what must be his door, yanking him by the shirt and pinning him to the wall again. 

a just punishment for your crimes! this is what you get for thinking like that!

_Hot._

"Oh my gosh. Are you listening!!! I will totally destroy you if you keep thinking like that!" You fuck up his hair to prove that you are serious, and he tries to shy away from it, red and smiling shyly like it’s a sin. 

Not the hair, why always the hair?

You double down, laughing while you do so. "Get it through your skull, you nerd!"

He stiffens and you still in response. You follow his gaze to see who must be his brother and step back with a sheepish grin. 

There's a beat, but it isn't silent. It's filled with a rush of thought from Dirk that's all encompassing. 

Oh man, now it's awkward, it's my fault, holy shit he's going to-

"Sup," his brother says. Your soulmate quiets and you smile at his brother. 

"Hey!" You say. You offer your hand. He takes it and gives you a solid shake. "You're D Strider, aren't you?" 

"That I am," he says with a proud little nod. You chuckle. 

"I'm John. John Egbert," you say. You nod back and release his hand. 

"Nice to meet you, John. And I'm sure Dirk is charmed, too," he says. He's got a charismatic almost-smirk on, and you chuckle. 

I'm going to light myself on fire.

"It seems so!" You chirp. You follow D inside when gestured to do so. 

"Oh, really? What's it like in that old noggin' of his, then? I've always been curious." 

You hum and glance at Dirk to make sure he follows. You split him a grin, loving how red and flustered he looks. 

"It's amazing," you say, and you mean it. "Talk about a beautiful brain. A little loud, but holy heck does he have a lot going on. It is admirable as heck." 

And if Dirk was red before, he is absolutely scarlet now. You're pleased as a plum, and you think his brother might even be doubly so. He grins and goes to the kitchen, popping open a bottle of wine. 

"Glad to hear it," he says. 

I can't even tell if this is going well or not.

You shoot Dirk a grin and a shrug. 

"Would you like a glass of wine, John? I was thinking about ordering delivery, and it'd be a damn delight to have you for dinner," D says. You perk up and nod quickly. 

"Sure! That would be so rad. I would love to get to know you guys more," you say. You feel a warm rush of excitement in your chest, but you don't know if it's really from you. It very well could be, but it feels too unbridled and excited to actually be yours. 

D seems to like him. Fuck, he's too cool.

You take the glass when it's poured and glance over to Dirk again. The moment you look at him your brain jolts. 

"Jeez! I am such a dunce, haha. I totally forgot your coffee in the car, Dirk," you say. 

He said my name.

Okay, you take everything back. Your soulmate is actually dumb. You roll your eyes. 

"Family trip to the car!” D pushes at Dirk's shoulder, and Dirk rolls his eyes and shoves back. You chuckle under your breath. 

"I can just go.”

i do not want them to see how gross my car is. their place is so nice.

Dirk raises his eyebrows as D deflates against him with an offended gasp. 

"But fresh air. Family, John," he says. You laugh it off. 

"I'll let you guys settle from the intrusion! I will be right back. Quick as a bunny," you say. You wave and turn, stepping back out the door and retracing your steps to the elevator. 

Holy shit, he is so smooth.

You feel light on your way down, gleeful among the awe and the shut-ups Dirk mentally throws at his brother. You try to be quick, but an elevator will only move at its own pace. 

My brother wants to know if you have any dietary restrictions.

You can feel that the thought is directed at you. You get to the car, trying to ignore how gross your car is while you grab Dirk's coffee. You'll be sure to clean it before you come over next. 

allergic to peanuts, but that is all.

Sick. Do you like Mexican, then?

yeah! that would be great.

Cash money. We're getting a bunch of tacos, but D wants to know if you want to share a quesadilla. They're pretty huge, so.

that would be great, yeah! i am coming back up the elevator now.

You make your way back and you're about to knock when the door opens. Dirk's brother is on the other side of the doorway. 

"Hey! Can I interest you in a margarita? Because Mexican food,” he explains. You blink. 

i have barely even started my wine...

"I'm okay, thanks!" He shrugs and steps back into the apartment to let you back inside. 

You toe off your shoes at the door this time and go back to your wine glass to take a sip. It's bitter, but not too gross. 

"So, tell me about yourself, John," D says. You chuckle, startled. 

do i even know who i am?

Dirk gives you a perplexed look as you speak. "Well, I grew up in western Washington. Went to school and got an English degree, and then I came out here because, well, what else was I going to do?" 

my dad died.

"And uh, yeah! I work in a coffee shop, I play piano, tell jokes sometimes. And I can pull out a decent magic trick here and there, maybe a prank. What about you guys?" You smile. You can feel Dirk's gaze on you. 

Piano makes sense. That explains a lot. It sucks his dad died, should I say something? He thought that, right? Am I supposed to say something? Oh shit, what am I supposed to-

"Well, I mostly chill here in Cali. I was born in New York but lived in Texas for a while. Dirk's my little brother, he was raised there after our mom died by yours truly, and now he's a nerd so I don't know what I did right but it must've been something," D provides.

Whatever, I raised my own damn self.

"I get the weeb shit from you, don’t lie. 'S the smarts I'm confused about." 

"At least we know where the looks come from." 

"That isn't how it works. And clearly there aren't any in the gene pool." Dirk rolls his eyes at D, and D feigns heartbreak.

"I'll have you know I'm one of the sexiest men alive."

"Yeah, in 2014, old man." 

D gasps like he was stabbed and then looks at you. 

Oh no.

"I mean, come on John, back me up. I'm still pretty, right?"

"I mean, without question there are some looks in the gene pool if you are sharing it with Dirk," you say smoothly. Your statement takes a moment to register, but they both light up in different ways. Dirk has the flattered embarrassment of someone with low self-esteem that wants to argue, and D seems happy that you chose to stand behind Dirk. 

He shows you this by slinging his arm over your shoulder and patting your chest. "You, I like you, John. Dirk, you did good, treat this guy right." 

I didn't even do anything, I'm just lucky.

"How could I not? I mean, look at him," Dirk replies. You raise an eyebrow and grin. 

"And what else? Are looks all that matter to you?" You ask. He snorts back. 

"Well what else is there?" He asks. _Swan Lake_ reference successful. You are grinning at each other like dorks for a moment there. 

Until bells go off in your head and have you jump a mile, glancing at D, who's still over your shoulder, and then Dirk. Dirk's still bright red. 

"That was loud," you say. 

"No it wasn't," D replies, patting your back and pulling off to lean against the counter. He has a point. 

My bad. Wedding bells. All good. My bad, I didn't mean to-

"It's fine," you say quickly. Wow. Brain is full. You're getting jumbled with everything. Dirk nods and looks down. 

"Thanks."

There's a pause. D is just kind of watching the two of you. 

... it is kind of sweet.

Dirk’s mind dissolves into a flurry of praise, and you laugh to yourself and glance at D, who had a near-imperceptible frown. 

"Sorry!" You say this when you realize that it's rude to leave him out of the loop. He shakes his head and relaxes, waving you off. 

"All good, homeslice. I was just thinkin' about goin' out for a smoke. Wanna join?"

You hate how you perk up at that, glancing at Dirk and then back again. 

"If I can bum one."

He smokes?

i don't _smoke_ smoke. like, i am not a smoker. tobacco is just delicious.

Dirk pulls a face and D is already grabbing a pack out of his pocket, leading the way out to the balcony. He leans against it and lights up a cigarette, offering it your way. You take it and pull a slow drag as he lights up his own. Dirk comes out a minute later, all tense and pale, and you think he might be subtly pouting that you're smoking, but it is hard to tell. 

Fuck, they're getting along so well, he's going to realize I'm not actually cool, fuck, he's too good for me, he’s going to realize it and it’ll all be over and-

D is talking, but you can't hear it properly. You blink at him, a little overwhelmed. 

"Uh, come again?" 

"You know, like, The Wall. Did you ever see the movie?" 

I swear, it gave me nightmares as a child. Legit, though. God, always makes me think of Dark Side of the Rainbow.

"Like, Pink Floyd? I've heard of it. But not that." You blink at Dirk. Did he even say that out loud? Has he even said anything out loud? Your eyebrows furrow as you realize that, as loud as Dirk's brain is, he might not be all too talkative. 

"You haven't heard of Dark Side of the Rainbow?" Dirk sends a look to D, who takes it without missing a beat. 

"It's Dark Side of the Moon lined up with _Wizard of Oz._ It fits perfectly, dude. It is gold. Conspiracy theories galore."

Absolutely perfect.

"I know what we're watching with dinner," D says as he stamps out his cigarette. 

And so, everything comes together quickly after that. The food arrives and Dirk grabs it wordlessly, but you hear as his mind overanalyzes the barest interaction with the delivery guy. You take a back seat to the events around you, looking but not seeing, and soon you are set up between the brothers with your still-full glass of wine and a daunting plate of food. The speakers are loud and all-encompassing as the movie starts. 

Through the first song you focus on eating, but it's hard to even focus on the music with Dirk's thinking because so much of what he says seems to warrant a response. But, of course, that would be rude because D is sitting right there, and he really can't hear Dirk's thoughts. 

So, instead, you nudge his knee when he starts going down the "you are too cool for me" track, sending something positive back. 

And then you try subtly punching his shoulder when that doesn’t stop him. 

And then you pinch the back of his arm because, jeez! This guy’s thoughts are endless! And that earns you an elbow to your sternum that winds you a little with a small laugh. You don't even notice D moving until he nudges you for your attention. 

Oh, I hadn't even thought of that.

D puts the necklace he's brandishing on with a bit of flair. It sits loosely on his neck, comfortably, and a couple of beats in the song go by before he gets a call on his phone. 

He answers it with a smug grin and puts his phone on speaker. 

"You know how much I loathe when you do that," a voice from the other side says. D can't stop smirking, waggling his eyebrows. Understanding dawns on you slowly. 

"All the more reason to, when it comes down to it," he replies. "You'll never guess who I'm with."

"Well, if you're muted I can only assume you're with a pack of whores waiting on you hand and foot," the woman says, cool and taunting. 

"Oh you know you're the only whore for me, baby," he says. 

"I'd say I'm sure that sounded better in your head, but I'm lacking in evidence as it stands," she shoots back. D chuckles. "How are the kids doing, then? Is John getting along alright?"

What a way to introduce her, I hope he still likes me after thi-

You pinch Dirk's arm again and grin in the direction of the phone. 

"Hey! D has you on speaker. I am John. It is nice to meet you," you say. 

"Well, I am absolutely charmed, John. I do trust Dirk and Dante have been making your welcome warm, yes?" 

"Of course! They have been nothing but entertaining but polite," you respond, while D responds to the namedrop like he's been shot in the background. 

"I am ecstatic to hear," she says. She doesn't sound unenthused, but ecstatic seems like a stretch. "I look forward to our meeting so I can pick little Dirk's brain through you, since he won't let my hands on it himself." 

D shakes his head, a lovestruck grin on his face. It's the first genuine smile from him since you've gotten there. "Honey, you ruin everything." 

"I know, baby. I'm here to make your life worse, don't forget." 

"And you do so well. I'm truly amazed. You're absolutely deplorable, and I hate you with my whole soul." 

"Take the damned mute off and I'll tell you how I really feel," she replies. The words they pass are drenched with a sickly overly-sweetness. She hangs up, and D takes the necklace off and plops it around your neck gleefully. 

... 

And it is quiet. You look over at Dirk, and then follow the direction of his gaze back to D, who’s looking between the two of you. 

"Well?" He asks. You blink. 

"It's way quieter," you say. It hasn't even been a full day since Dirk entered your mind, but the prolonged reprieve is almost kind of nice. 

D turns his face back to Dirk. 

"Not entirely too different," Dirk states carefully. 

It’s then that it strikes you with full force how quiet Dirk might actually be. It's hard to distinguish the running, constant thoughts from the words he decides to say, but without them you find yourself feeling antsy. You can almost see now why both D and his must-be-soulmate are so curious about what's up inside his head. 

You examine Dirk. His expression rests at a pure neutral. His eyebrow twitches subtly, presumably in thought, but there's nothing behind it. He's cute, you'll admit, and he comes across as cool and stoic. If you hadn't just had your ear against the wall of his mind, you think he would make you extremely nervous. 

Your line of thought is cut off completely when alarms go off from speakers. You jump a mile for a moment before you realize it's just part of the song. You associate the way Dirk shifts his knee with the way he narrates what happens around him internally, but nothing passes in your mind. 

Have you had him in your head long enough to miss him there? 

As the bells and alarms fade into the rest of the song, you find yourself really feeling the music for a moment, and you watch Dorothy run around on-screen. You think maybe you might be falling for the conspiracy, but you know brains like to look for patterns, so it's hard to remain convinced. 

D doesn't even seem to care about the film part of things when the lyrics come in next. The speakers are loud enough that he's able to comfortably sing along, baring his soul with the words. 

By the end of the verse, he sings a little like he's pleading and then rolls it right into some sick air guitar, and he almost makes it look like he can play for real. You take a moment to glance over at Dirk, who's watching you, and you flash him a smile. He goes red and nods, but doesn't say anything. 

D continues to sing. You figure he must love this song - which you understand because music is pretty rad, especially when it's heartbreaking. And he does seem to be in pieces over this song, like it means something deep that you don’t actually understand thoroughly yet. Your heart goes out to him. 

The tone of the song shifts and smooths out, pairing with the guitar. There's a break in the lyrics, and the two take it as a dramatic pause. Without Dirk’s thoughts, all you can do is perceive the music. 

And then, Dirk joins in on singing. You didn't really appreciate D's singing in earnest and to its fullest extent before, but him and Dirk harmonize perfectly with one another, their voices melding. They had to have taken lessons, or at very least they have put some hours into singing, because it is beautiful. Your breath is stolen. You are between two sirens and tied to one by fate, and your grin threatens to break your face. 

Dirk slips a hand to your shoulder as the song fades seamlessly into the next, and then he carefully slips the necklace off of you to toss it back to D. You think as loud as you can before you drown in his thoughts, looking right at Dirk. 

i think you are cool, and i like you. thank you.

You watch him fluster up at you and you tip your head back to let out a joyous laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its so long i just HAD to get d being emotional over time (the song) in even tho its like only an ok scene but it was i m p o r t a n t. tysm to everyone thats read, double thanks to those that have kudo'd, and all my love goes out to every comment ever


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you describe a depressive episode if you are never not in one? 
> 
> I mean- what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: ohhhh my god the code was messed up for this chapter for like days & i was totally oblivious my hekin bad like the whole thing was in dirk font 
> 
> F

It's warm here. At least, you think it is. When you press your fingertips together it feels like your skin doesn't exist, but it's real so it must be true. You see it and you choose to believe. 

You hear something. The sound turns your head and your focus until you're looking at a boy. 

You love him. 

You can't reach him, no matter how hard you run. Your legs don't move. 

He is being clawed down by himself, and he is dressed in blue and black in his respective forms. The offending him has grey skin. He tears it off, and then there are three of him. 

Soon there are more of him. You can't reach him. You try harder, and eventually you break out into a sprint and barrel him over to take him away and save him. 

i need my arms.

Fuck. You release him into the piles of hims and he sighs like he is relaxing. He melts into the mass, and you watch while he sinks in, unwilling to leave him alone. 

The ground shakes. You're lifted. You look up. You are in his palm, thrust back with your hands behind you. 

i am great, but i am not great. if you lean on me, i will fall.

He leans down to face you. He is a hundred times larger than you, and his face is melting into sludge. He presses his lips to yours and breathes into you until you swell up to his size. You stand before him, matching his size, and you look back at him. 

you seem steady, but i would never lean on you at all.

You reach out to him, but you shatter into a thousand yous. They're all the same, but you are on the ground again and he remains as a great figure. 

He turns. There's a wall that's taller than him with flashing, moving characters. Words that you can't make out. He stands in front of it, his hand raised. 

can you see it? the writing on the wall?

And then he begins. It's like an art. You still can't read what he's writing, but he carves out words onto the wall from the ether. They drip with black sludge, drawing it out of John. With each flick he looks more and more like himself. 

He steps back when he deems the wall finished. He looks over to you and his face splits into a bright grin. 

i can't read it, either.

You furrow your eyebrows at him. You don't know how he moves so easily, but he steps back towards you, shrinking back down to your size. 

He hands you a pen. You can't take it because you are dreaming. This realization makes you frown. 

When you look over to John again, you're tiredly grasping at the pen. His eyes are blank. You're awake, but you don't think he is. 

You blink and look at the pen again. Sharpie. It's real. It is actually a marker, taken from the kitchen's pen cup. 

Which means... 

You feel John relax, and then start to wake up on the couch next to you as you read what's written all over the wall. Insults and even slurs that you're not going to repeat. A caricature of John that's far from flattering thrown into the mix. It all spans over the wall, the smell from the marker still fresh in the air. 

It's heartbreaking. You know it's not directed at you. 

Fuck.

You feel John move. He looks up at you, and then starts to turn. You shake his head and cup his cheek to stop him. 

How do I keep him from seeing?

His face falls at the thought. He's still looking at you, his eyebrows pinched. His eyes glance down to the pen in your other hand, and he just seems more distraught. 

i did it again, didn't i.

"I'm sorry." He croaks the words, and they're thick from sleep and glancing emotion. 

Something drops in your chest, and suddenly everything feels flat. The world caves in on you and the air feels oppressive. You're being silently crushed as you sit across from John. 

It's okay. It's okay, man. We can just paint over it, it'll be easy. It's alright. We paint all the time, this'll be easy to handle.

Your thoughts are barely able to cut through the haze. It's like all of your energy has been zapped, and it makes you not want to deal with it. When you take a breath, though, you realize it's all surface level. Overwhelming, but under it you still feel like yourself. 

The wave of nothingness is coming from John. 

"Let me help," he says. He smiles wide, sitting up a little. You blink. The blanket of deadened emotion is still thick on you, but he doesn't act any different. 

Is he okay? Holy shit. I don't even want to breathe.

He laughs lightly. You are still holding his cheek to stop him from turning away. He doesn't seem to know what to say. 

"I can handle it, man. It's no big deal," you say. He seems hesitant at that. "Are you okay, though? Do you want some coffee or something?" 

He blinks, glancing at the coffee table. The containers from dinner are strewn about, and the sun is just starting to rise. He shrugs a little, staying quiet. 

He doesn't say anything, though. He stays silent and it's perplexing to you. 

What is he thinking?

The blanket of dead emotion remains as he laughs, looking back at you with knit eyebrows. You blink in confusion, but he just shakes his head. 

"Do you know how to do a cartwheel?" 

You can't help but give him a confused look, knitting your eyebrows and squinting. 

In theory, maybe. I can do a standing backflip and a handstand, so probably.

"I don't think so, no. Can you?" You ask. He beams up at you, standing and pulling at your hand. 

"You are so modest! Do you want to go outside? The sun's rising, and I saw a patch of fake grass outside when I parked," he says. He seems so animated, and the juxtaposition between that and the emotion that has to be coming from him makes your head spin. You nod dumbly. 

"Sure, let me text my brother first," you say, letting him heft you up. You do just that as he steps away from the couch and stretches. 

You don't see him turn, but you feel the bottom of your stomach fall out. You think you might throw up. You can barely hear John chuckle to himself. 

What the fuck. How does he live like this? It's too fucking heavy.

You swallow. You're actually shaking, stepping away from the couch slowly. John glances at you from the corner of his eye with a small frown. 

What was it he said? _If you lean on me, I will fall._

John is looking at you, and you become distantly aware of it as you lean your palm into the door frame. 

that sounds so familiar...

He... doesn't remember?

There's a beat where you look right at John. How does he live like this? You feel exhausted. 

"Remember what?" 

You said it to me in a dream.

"It doesn't matter," you say. "Let's jet, yeah?"

You asked if I could see the writing on the wall. You poured your sludge into every word and then told me you couldn't read it. You build me up, you break me down, my heart, it pounds, yeah, you got me-

John's confusion seems to grow, but he doesn't mention it as your mind gets off track. He pauses, smiles, and bounces on the balls of his feet, ushering you towards the door. 

He looks both ways in the hall, grinning. 

taking the stairs is one of the small changes you can make in your everyday life to improve cholesterol and prevent heart disease!

He's dragging you towards the opposite side of the hall before you can even process the thought. 

You are still drowning, nearly stumbling. He seems so spry as you go down the stairs, but you feel heavy in your soul. 

It has to be him. How does he feel this way and still function? What the fuck? How am I even expected to muster up a donkey kick?

"You mean you know what a donkey kick is yet you've never tried your hand at some cartwheels?" He asks. You blink at his response. 

What is he thinking.

He laughs and pulls you to one of the fake patches of grass. 

Why isn't he thinking anything?

The sun is just barely rising. He faces it standing straight and tall. His structure is strong, and you watch as he squares his shoulders and breathes to the bottom of his lungs, and then he releases slowly. 

it is a privilege to get old. only the lucky get to do it.

That confuses you. He stretches his hands out above his head and you feel just a touch of weight lift up off of you. It's a pound off of a ton, but it's something. 

"I haven't done a backbend in years, so if I pass out my bad," he chirps. You blink and watch as he stretches and bends over backwards. His hands nearly miss the ground, but he straightens out and plants his palms on the ground firmly. 

How was I supposed to have enough time to prepare for him to pass out? That wasn't even two seconds.

He falls onto his back when he laughs, looking up at you. 

"I'm sure you would have done fine!" 

Seems like the kind of guy that doesn't check his fire extinguishers annually.

That sends him into a fit of laughter, sitting up and shaking his head at you. 

i do not even mow my lawn.

... i should look into that before summer hi-

"Do a cartwheel!" 

You nearly jump a mile at the sudden request, so tuned in to his thoughts. Curiosity fills you to the brim, but you cock your head in confusion at him. 

"Do it! I have complete and utter faith in your ability to complete a successful cartwheel, come on come on come on." He jumps up into a standing position, pausing and completing a clumsy cartwheel in example. 

Damn. The sun's barely up, but let's make this happen.

"You can start with donkey kicks if you need," he says. You shrug, stepping back and then analyzing how you want to go about this. You settle to just fucking do it after a minute. How hard can it be, after all? 

Your attempt turns out to be a little too much like a handstand, and you fail on the landing because you have the balance down but not the momentum. 

Meaning, you plop onto your back with an "oof," looking up at the orangey sky in defeat. 

John laughs, standing. 

God, it's been so long since I've played outside like this.

"Is that why you move like an old man," he teases, crouching to poke at your cheek. 

Mister Noodle Arms, fuckin' "might pass out" back bend, over here callin' me an old man. Ass. 

That sends him into another fit of what can only be deemed as giggles. He offers his hand out to you. You are physically unable to stop yourself from smiling as you take it to stand. 

"Okay," he says, nodding. "Let's start you off with some donkey kicks this time." 

You don't notice it when it happens, but the longer you guys stand out there, the lighter the weight in your chest sits. A slow process, and the heaviness persists, but by the time you are seeing him off you are at least able to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha bet you thought dirk was the depressed one here lmao
> 
> also sorry about the cliché dream sequence i felt like it was important


End file.
